


Low School Budget Leads to Romance and Rescue

by Aeromance



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: AU, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, High School, I was just trying to make pizza rolls, M/M, Oh god, but isn’t it “college” in England for the last two years?, i fucked up i fucked up, there is no Niall and I feel so bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-07
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 17:02:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeromance/pseuds/Aeromance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>A slow smile starts to grow on Harry’s lips as he keeps letting his eyes roam around Louis’ face. The smile blooms like Louis is his personal sun, those smooth rose petal lips unfurling, revealing his sharp ivory thorns. Finally, it blossoms out, dimples taking root. Louis would do anything, every single day for the rest of his life to be the cause of this smile.</i><br/>Louis loves Harry and Harry loves Louis – managing to be bonded before they’re even out of school is the best and worst. Some people love them for it, some people hate them. Which is fine, until someone takes it too far. Louis just wants to graduate.<br/>Inspired by “Strong” by One Direction (translation: I listened to it on repeat a thousand times while crying, eating ice cream, and writing this)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Low School Budget Leads to Romance and Rescue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [grindlarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/grindlarry/gifts).



> To my lovely gift receiver: I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I loved writing it. It was challenging and fun - made me laugh and cry - and was a great and rewarding process in the end. I hope it makes you feel happy and wonderful and lovely, as you should always. Happy holidays to you and everyone else.  
> A huge, massive thank you to my beta, Amanda. Everything good in this, she personally polished and brought out, everything bad is stuff she tried to rip away but I stubbornly kept.  
> Prompt: Louis and Harry are bonded and going through high school. They met when they were 15 and three years later are still wildly in love. It starts slowly, eventually Louis realizes that he has something almost like a stalker. He's scared but he doesn't want to tell Harry because he knows how protective he'll get. This leads to angst and protective Harry and aggressive sex idk  
> Disclaimer: I do not own any portion of the copyright on One Direction and their likeness. If I did, gay porn would be in their future.  
> Most importantly, I do not make any claim to know anything about their actual, private personas. This is simply my (psychotic) reaction to their adorable, wonderful, lovely public personas which may or may not correspond to how they actually are IRL.

"You're leaking, mate." The comment emanates from a random voice behind him. It is quiet enough that the comment is clearly only meant for Louis.

Louis turns on his heel as he bites out, loud enough to be heard over the crowd, "Fuck you!" No one is going to call him out like that and get away with it.

Mid-turn, he realizes his escalation was a mistake. Before him is a large, broad boy, taller than him, despite being younger than Louis – Liam Payne. Shit, people are looking - slowing down, turning their heads, and starting to murmur. Louis smiles and laughs outward, facing the crowd and ruffles Liam's hair. Liam has those fucking brown eyes out - well, his eyes are always out, but they are popping out in that innocent way that speaks volumes to his confusion and utter innocence and 'whatever would I have done to anger you, my dear, sweet, and cherished friend?' Louis sighs, over-emotional fucking traitor, and grabs him by the arm, heading into a classroom goaded by catcalls. He hears the comments, all of them. But they don't know. They didn't hear what Liam said, thank God. Louis slams the door shut and locks it, silencing the crowd noise and shoves Liam roughly against the wall, growling gently.

"What the fuck do you mean, 'I'm leaking'?" His hand travels to the backside of his trousers, absently rubbing between his arse to check for anything. Once he makes sure that there’s no validity to Liam's statement, he sighs and drops his head against the taller boy's shoulder, growling again in frustration. "The fuck, Li?"

He can't see his face but he knows Liam is transitioning from shocked confusion to his thinking face where he ruffles his brows in earnest confusion because - how could he ever do something to agitate a friend of his, he's only trying to be the most helpful to the best of his abilities. The fucker.

"I-" Liam stutters and gently pushes Louis away by his upper arms, side-stepping towards a desk. Leaning against said desk, he coughs and starts again. "I was only trying to help, you were-" Louis doesn't have time for this.

"Nope." He interrupts. Without warning, he turns away from Liam, bends over, and starts waving his bum in the air and rubbing at the center crease where anything would come out if something was coming out. It's not. Louis knows it's not. He's smarter than that, better than this at that. He’s too young to go into heat and he would know if it was happening, God forbid.

Stuttering starts again and Louis should really know better than to be this cruel to Liam but he's not in the mood for this today. He unbuckles his trousers and drops them to the floor shaking his hips again and even going so far as to grab the material at his crotch and yank it forward, stretching his pants over his cheeks.

"Nope, nope, nope, nothing at all." He runs his right index finger up and down the crease of his arse, slower than it needs to be because he's making a point, not trying to entice someone - only he likes to do this to Liam because no one reacts to crossing boundaries like Liam. Not that he'd ever dare to do this to anyone else.

"No fucking liquid lubrication biologically inbred in me to make it so that, at a moment's notice, I can bend forward and be roughly, brutally, and uncaringly fu-" he's stopped by firm hands on his hips, pulling him back until he loses grip on his front and back and he is being redressed with methodical ease, Liam breathing heavily in his ear, the opposite of sexy - just as Liam always is.

Liam is mumbling interspersed phrases as he makes Louis decent – “God damn it, Louis" - he got him to swear for once, that's interesting - "I was just trying to help out." Louis goes still on instinct but doesn't fight it for once, it's only Liam. "You're so insensitive and crude." He won't do anything bad - "it must have been a puddle of water or something but," - probably won't even mention how Louis popped a boner the second Liam started acting dominating in any way. "I just don't get what your problem is." Did Louis do this purposely, acting antagonistic because he hates what he was born fated to do -"you fight against this so much" - but still craves it so fucking much? "I don't know why you don't just accept it." Liam steps up and stands away from Louis, probably eyeing him like a wounded animal. ”It'd be so much easier if you did," he softly finishes his rant that Louis heard maybe a third of. That is the best way to take in Liam's speeches because he is very sincere but not the most eloquent person in the world and tends to ramble and repeat himself.

Louis is still lost in thought, staring at the chalkboard in front of him. Maybe he does antagonize Liam because Liam is safe. And if he antagonizes him like that, he gets what he craves in a way he can without letting his pride be seriously wounded. He realizes this must be a freshman or sophomore room; upperclassmen still have the same sentiments but they know to be more subtle about it. Crudely depicted on the board are seven or eight boys with muscles popping out of every imaginable place, striking poses and some even going so far as to bare something resembling fangs. One of the boys has a speech bubble coming from his gaping, fang-ridden mouth, saying the poorly spelled phrase "Alphas 4 lyfe". Only some of the other muscled boys depicted have speech bubbles that seem to murmur assent, only half as big as the words at the top of the board.

Alphas for life. Because they would be anywhere without the other parts of the cycle. A bunch of alphas walking around, knocking heads would be really fucking helpful. The thought makes Louis snicker to himself - he really is the funniest person he knows - and Liam pokes his back to get his attention. Idly, he reaches behind himself and brushes Liam off. He's thinking important things.

They're obviously ignoring basic biology here - the kind of shit that they all learned in primary. Of those that evolved, the divide between each class is roughly even, about as many becoming alphas as betas and omegas. Which is necessary for this to work out and be an evolutionary advantage. How many of the drawings up there were created with shaking hands because ignoring the teacher’s remarks and demands didn't come as easy as breathing and being so aggressive made them feel off-balance and vaguely sick? How many of these boys are acting like massive cocks just so they can get by in school and hopefully find a decent job and settle before it becomes really obvious and they're stereotyped for the rest of their lives? There is, of course, the unspoken last question: how many of them are doing that - how many of them are exactly like Louis?

A small sigh gets his attention by how soft and understated it is. Louis is ready for this to be over and finally turns around and drags his eyes up to his face and sees his least favorite looks ever - look #32: I'm so concerned about you and you should probably do what I think is best because I do know what's best because I love you (I love all creatures under the sun) and did I mention how dang concerned I am (because I don't swear. Ever.).

"You know, it would be easier if you just accepted this about yourself and went along with it." Liam kind of shakes his head in a gesture at the vague pronoun. It. Because he can't exactly describe the social hierarchy that he thinks Louis should accept for his own benefit.

Whatever calm had come over Louis, it is gone. The eye of the storm has passed and he is ready to fight - snapping his teeth at Liam, lightning crashes between them and Louis steps forward, crowding his friend against a wall. There are flashes of shock reflecting in Liam's eyes, but it isn't possible that he is more surprised than Louis that he is doing this. The aggression makes his stomach turn but he doesn't care at the moment. Liam is going to get exactly what 'it' is.

"What should I do, then, hm, Li?” Louis ask, each word feeling jagged and broken. Liam only whimpers in response. He hates fighting and Louis just can't bring himself to care at the moment. "Should I stand before the entire student body and say - better bend over, first, yeah? - and say, hey guys, I'm an omega. Just so you know. In case any of you alphas happen to have come into your own early and have been sadly resisting your own urges, now is the perfect time to make a move, because I am made to accept rape pretty well."

Louis clutches at Liam's shoulders, pushing him against the wall, and Liam grasps his sides. Whether his point was to push him away or pull him closer, Louis isn't sure, but he isn't doing either, only squeezing at him sporadically and twitching. "N-no."

Louis barely hears him and continues, his voice slowing down, losing the venomous edge. "Hopefully, I don't fall for you and end up having you use me as your fuck-toy. Then I’ll just have to pine for years and years while I wait for another alpha to dare challenge you and take over and hopefully be a little more committed. All that will probably will happen, though, because those high levels of oxytocin and serotonin in my lubrication absorbs so much easier into my bloodstream through my huge, wide, gaping, loose, fucked-out hole-" each lascivious adjective Louis closer to Liam until their chests are touching, "-than the small, tiny hole at the tip of your massive cock." He couldn't help the eye-roll and Liam seems to mirror him, most likely for different reasons.

"If it doesn't the first time, no worries!” He continues, **“** Because alphas and omega never really fuck only once, do they? They are created—” the pronoun shift is soft but abrupt. Louis is losing his angry and dramatic steam and is now instead talking directly to Liam, admitting fears he never cared to voice before. The hands firmly gripping Liam's shoulders are now using that leverage for support rather than pinning him against the wall. "They are created to breed anything and everything they can, repeatedly. Regardless of how hurt, nonconsensual, or sore I am." Liam's hands grip his hips tighter and hold him closer, giving the support freely. "They are made to fuck like animals and I am made to be fucked like an animal." The last sentence is nothing but a small, broken whisper, Louis' eyes focused on the ground and nothing else because it's over. He's out of anger for now and he doesn't know what to do without that to cling on to.

Nonetheless, it's gone. The storm is over. Only a soft drizzle is left now, edging at the corners of both boys' eyes. They're simply holding each other and Louis is not above taking advantage of the physical comfort. He will never stop loving a good cuddle but something about it just seems to make Liam slightly uncomfortable, not that he would ever actually voice that feeling. It just isn't as fun when both parties are not fully consenting.

Louis finally brings himself to look up and stare into the warm depths of Liam's eyes and sees pain - real, actual, gut-wrenching pain out in the open for anyone to see. Because of course Liam would completely empathize with his situation and feel so awful for him, as if it's his own burden and clearly be just as hurt by the situation as Louis is himself. That's just who Liam is and why - despite their complete opposite positions on crudeness, the idea of what's fun, and how necessary being right about everything is - they are best friends, for better or worse. The bastard. Liam chuckles dryly and Louis may have voiced that last sentiment aloud.

He really can't stand to deal with the raw emotion that is still swirling in Liam's eyes and, instead, he buries his head in Liam's neck. What comes next, he wasn't prepared for.

"I'm sorry," Liam croaks, like his voice is broken and worn to shreds. Instead of replying, Louis keeps hiding, the coward that he is. For just a moment, he wants to pretend that everything is okay and he has nothing to worry about and that is a hell of a lot easier while being tightly buried in Liam's arms.

His lips move against the soft, warm skin under him, echoing silent words he'll never be able to say. A noise of slight distress comes from Liam, uncomfortable but maybe not entirely against it, or else he would be hedging his way out of the hug. Then Liam wraps his arms tightly around Louis and presses him hard against his chest and nuzzles against his ear, warm breath tickling him and - oh.

Not exactly having permission but not being stopped, Louis just lets himself melt into the tight hug, feeling better than he has in ages. This is what he needs. He knows it. He needs someone to hold him - to hold him up and hold him together and never let him down. He tries to hate himself for it but homo-sapiens need this, too, right? Physical affection as a reaffirmation that you are indeed wanted and loved and cared for. The flimsy excuse gets brushed away in a heavy breath that Liam lets out - whatever they need or he needs or anyone needs, Louis doesn't care because maybe this could work for him.

The door to the classroom slams open and a lanky, curly-haired boy rushes in, shouting. "I'll find you, Gem." He stops dead, only about two feet away from where Louis and Liam are slumped against each other on the wall. His squeaky voice drops several bars into something trying to be deep. "Get the fuck off him."

Louis finally cranes over Liam's shoulder and gets a look at those bright green eyes for the first time and it feels like someone punches him in the gut and the floor drops out from underneath him and he can't really breath anymore and he's never drank enough to be this dizzy but something's happening. His whole world is falling away and all he can really bring himself to do is focus on the boy striding towards him and prying Louis away from Liam.

This skinny, loping angel-haired boy holds him by the arms and stares at Louis with – what he realizes – must be the same exact awestruck expression that he has on his own face.

"Oh, fuck," they murmur in unison. 

 

_Three years later._

 

"This is my last year, oh, this is my last year. And then I’m done with this bullshiiiiit." The sun is shining, unreflective off of the dull, red bricks of the school, but that’s okay. Because on this dreary October Monday, Louis can’t help but remember that this is his last fucking year at this school. So he is skipping and dancing, waving at everyone he sees, even his teachers exiting their vehicles and getting ready for the day, getting ready to torment him more like. Louis continues his dance and prepares his voice to start the refrain again, except he is interrupted. 

“And Louis is a big annoying jerk that’s really also quite tiny.” A gravelly, sing-song voice joins the tune but clearly fucks up the words. It was a song about how awesome Louis was/is/always and forever will be.

His skipping Toms stop in their tracks and he turns to the left, putting an arm out to stop the hopping, curly haired giant that is skipping and grinning and still trying to sing. “-but we still love him anyway despite the fact that he is leaving me soon-“ he gets cut off as Louis’ arm hits him in the chest. Without missing a beat, Harry stops and turns to him, still grinning cheekily – the complete opposite of Louis’ stoic face.

“ _Harold._ ” He drops his arm and sniffs with an affronted air. “This is not how you are supposed to be reacting. My happiness is your happiness.” There is no doubt that his unamused face and stern voice is having no effect whatsoever on Harry. The bastard.

Harry keeps that big, dopey grin on his face and laughs lowly. He grabs Louis by the hips and turns him so that they are facing each other and pulls him in tight. “I am happy that you are happy. You are my happiness.” The murmur is low and soft and still so delightfully harsh on his ears and maybe Louis’ knees go weak. Just a little. Harry bends towards his ear and whispers, “But you being a dumb, annoying jerk and me being able to point it out makes me really happy, too.”

Louis doesn’t know what he ever saw in him. “Okay, moment gone! I don’t know why I couldn’t have bonded with someone who could support my success and general awesomeness.” He pushes away the laughing boy and skips quickly along, partially because he wants to get away from Harry and partially because he wants to watch Harry make a good effort to keep up with him.

By the time he reaches his class, he turns around and sees Harry right behind him. He always is. Louis smiles to himself, holds the door to the art room open for Harry, and smacks his arse as he follows him in. Harry yelps and rubs himself as he turns around to frown unconvincingly at Louis, anything but displeasure in his eyes.

 

~*~

Harry has a certain face – a face that is carved from glistening marble, tight and still – that he gets when he’s working. It’s beautiful and a true indicator of how dedicated he is to the work he does and the passion that he does things with. Louis respects that face and the output it usually means is coming.

Louis also loves fucking up that very face.

A paintbrush covered in blue-ish red paint dabs Harry’s cheek. Harry looks up from his easel, eyes wide in utter shock at being drawn out of his own world. Louis can’t help but cackle and make a quick jump back to his own station, still within three feet of Harry. He frowns while drawing a thumb along the paint on his cheek – only smearing it further – and examining the color combination.

“Lewis.” Harry drags the word out, managing to look affronted in the most nonthreatening way possibly ever.

“Yes?” Louis plays innocent – he invented the innocent act, owns it, and is waiting to hear back on the copyright.

“You got paint on meeeeee.” Harry whines and shakes his head like that will get the paint off or do anything positive for his life situation whatsoever. The picture of a poor, slightly dejected and confused Harry trying to shake away the smeared paint on his cheek and frowning at Louis does nothing to help his cackling levels.

“Louis!” The art teacher, Lou, barks at them. “Do I need to separate you two?”

Louis stifles his laughing into the crook of his elbow as Harry turns towards Lou with a placating smile. “Sorry, I’m just trying to teach Louis some manners. No need to put him in the corner,” He throws a look over his shoulder and adds in a mutter, “yet.”

“But he started it!” Louis cries out but she has already moved on, forgetting her empty threat quickly as she busies herself with other, more studious, students.

“Did not,” Harry mutters and shoves once at Louis before returning to his painting.

Louis ignores the comment, not having a witty retort at the ready, and busies himself with the drawing he is trying to mangle into something halfway resembling a bowl of fruit. While Louis was nowhere near artistic, independent art projects was one of the few electives that they could take together, given the age disparity. One of the perks of attending a school that is specifically for their kind is they respect and understand the severity of bonding and managed to stick them in a few classes together, knowing that it would do more harm than good to keep them apart.

The green shading in what is supposed to be a drawing of an arm looks more like a shade of sick than any kind of fabric Louis has ever seen. Louis crumples the paper, throws it into the waste bin – score! – and starts again while sneaking glances at Harry. How he got so lucky to find his mate when he was fifteen, Louis really has no clue. He hadn’t even been looking at that point, more terrified of the idea of being tied to someone than anything else. It was more likely to happen considering that each person at his high school was looking for their mate as well but still – people spent their whole lives touring the world, trying to find the one person they clicked with more than anyone else. There wasn’t even an exact guarantee that everyone had a mater and just couldn’t find them.  Louis remembers wishing he would be one of those people.

When Harry catches him staring, he meets his gaze and absently rubs at the drying paint on his cheek like he had made peace with it. That day he had first met him and bonded with Harry wasn’t exactly like being tied to someone. There was never an unwilling bone in his body about Harry. It was more like being able to take a full breath for the first time in his life. Or more like living in dim twilight and having finally having the lights turned on, it hurts at first and takes getting used to but now you can finally see everything as it is and what was standing right in front of you, waiting for you to notice.

Harry smiles and Louis grinned back – exactly like having the lights turned on.

 

~*~

 

Louis drops his head on his desk and sighs – trying to stifle his own despondent frustration. The knowledge that he is almost done with this school is eating at him and breaking him down, regardless of how soon the year has only just started. He just wants to be free of this God-forsaken place.

“Looking at the Greeks, we have a lot to learn from these ancient people in the ways of culture.” The dull tone of Mr. Grimshaw filters through Louis’ ears as a dim background noise with the cadence of a fan. He checks his page of notes. _Greek old cultured_ – he’ll ace this class for sure. Louis snickers. He will, though. Grimshaw loves him. Despite his general dislike for teachers and anything related with the structure of this school, he finds himself drawn to him as well, actually deigning to answer questions sometimes.

“-which is indicative of what? Louis?” Fuck.

His name colored with the dusty, desiccated tone breaks through Louis’ personal sound barrier and he looks up – deer-in-headlights look in full effect.

“Umm…” Louis starts, eloquent as ever. Mr. Grimshaw simply smiles and nods encouragingly, usually having no time for unengaged students.

Louis looks back down at his notes – Greek, old, cultured – right. He’s got this. “It is indicative of…” It’s not that he’s the most hated kid in school but the expectant looks on all of the faces around him look like everyone is excited to watch a train crash. Louis clears his throat, fuck them. “It is indicative that, despite ancient Greece being so much older than us and clearly behind all of our advances in technology, we still have much to learn from them in the ways that they lived, er, culturally.”

Mr. Grimshaw claps once and smiles. “Excellent, Lou.” He walks on and continues the lecture and Louis sinks in his seat, not being able to handle the disappointment emanating from several people. Everyone loves a good classroom embarrassment but it’s clear that some people would specifically like to see Louis fail.

“Fuck them,” He says under his breath and looks pointedly down at his notes and starts to actually make a small attempt at listening. Louis refuses to give anyone the satisfaction of watching him fail. They don’t deserve it. Even if he doesn’t give a shit about ancient Greeks whatsits – wait, was Mr. Grimshaw talking about gay sex?

 

~*~

 

Louis and Liam weave in and out of the crowds of the afterschool rush, Louis speaking rapidly and Liam smiling and nodding like this was of the utmost importance – bless him. “And he talks about how there were TONS of gay people back then and it wasn’t even a big deal.”

“I don’t really see how that has to do with the course literature of European History, really, during this part of the year, he should be focusing on-“

“But SOME people, the younger lads who were, you know, taking it,” Louis’ own slight embarrassment was quickly replaced by satisfaction when he saw Liam turn red and quickly look away from him, stumbling slightly. Li would never, ever change. “Those people were still looked down upon. Like, Mr. Grimshaw said we had a lot to learn from every part of history, whether they were doing the right or wrong thing.”

Liam lit up at that and nodded. “Right, like the story of Troy-“

“So it’s interesting to think even though they were all kind of gay, having sex with people of the same gender and all, there were some people who it was shameful to think of as gay.” Louis wildly gestures as he keeps tripping through the dwindling crowds in the locker-ridden hallways.

“Er. Right.” All he gets in response besides that was Liam shrugging his shoulders and quirking his lip.

“We’re supposed to email him an essay within three days about what we think we can learn from that correct or incorrect action and how it can be applied in today’s culture, especially within our own evolved culture.” Louis smiles, already excited to write the paper – a true fucking rarity. “He said we’re emailing them in because he wants them to be mostly anonymous. We don’t even have to attach our names if we don’t want to. So long as everyone turns in the papers, no one will have to own up to what they wrote. He’ll just give full credit all around because it’s an opinion piece.”

Liam’s lips finally fall into a full frown. “I don’t really see how that possibly applies to the curriculum as outlined by the-“

A shoulder slams into Louis’ chest and nearly knocks the wind out of him. Liam’s strong hand on his hip is the only thing that keeps him from falling over.

“Watch it, fag.” The words are spat out, obviously planned for Louis, like he had been waiting around the corner for the perfect moment.

Louis can feel Liam tensing besides him, going into protective older brother mode. He pats his side and steps away from him. “Excuse me?” Louis steps up to his full height and stares at the boy in front of him. He looks vaguely familiar so he must be in his year. Louis doesn’t associate with younger years as a general rule – with two huge exceptions.

“You heard what I said and you need to watch where you’re going,” The random buzz cut, jock-but-not-actually-good-enough-to-be-a-real-jock type says.

“I did. And you need to watch your fucking mouth.” Once Louis clearly veers off script – the next line in the guy’s head probably being incoherent crying and babbling and apologies – the guy loses a lot of confidence. He’s probably all talk. Louis has gotten good at sensing someone who is willing to enact violence on a person. It is necessary, or was necessary. This hasn’t happened in a long time.

The guy grabs Louis’ shoulder and is clearly pulling back for a punch. Louis may be a bit rusty at sensing when violence is on the table.

For the second time today, his world is brutally set askew, a hard body shunts him to the side and Louis falls against Liam, being supported by him once more. A loud clang of lockers rings out to the right and Louis shoves off of Liam to get a good look at the action. His apparent hero is Harry and Louis doesn’t know why he is surprised in the slightest about any of this. The slight annoyance about being extracted from the situation before he could deal with it is soothed by the fact that he doesn’t have to nurse a shiner and- well. Louis coughs as he steps closer to hear.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing to my boyfriend?” Harry has the guy bythe collar and pressed against the hard gray metal like he isn’t clearly outweighed and possibly outmatched depending on how many friends said jock alpha male doughebag #57has.

“Letting him know his place.” The guy spits out. Louis winces.

“Wrong answer, really.” Harry says coldly. There’s a rustle of movement and a dull thud and nameless douche-nozzle doubles over and nearly drops. Harry starts stepping away before turning and pushing the bent-over form with his foot, all three pairs of eyes watching the guy easily fall to the ground. “Touch him again, talk to him again, even so much as look at him again – and I will make you regret your pathetic ass tried to come to this school and pretend you’re an alpha at all.” The steely tone to Harry’s voice sends a shiver down Louis’ spine.

Harry walks away with a short growl and stalks toward Louis and Liam and it’s- well, it’s a little scary to see Harry with that look in his eye. He grabs Louis away from Liam roughly and Louis immediately jerks out of grasp, taking a step away from him. “You, okay, Haz?” Liam puts a hand on Harry’s shoulder and mirrors the sentiment. Harry looks at both of them before shaking his curls out of his eyes, finally breaking that chilly demeanor.

“Yeah, I’m great.” He shoots a quick smile at Louis before turning to Liam and patting him on the shoulder. “Thanks for helping out, Liam.” Liam and Louis freeze and glance at each other.

Liam takes a step towards Harry and opens his hands towards him in supplication. “Mate, you know I would do anything for him, but he clearly wanted to handle it and I respect his decisions unless he’s in serious danger.”

Harry blinks a few times and looks over back towards the locker. They all do, then. The guy is gone by now. Something shifts and settles in Harry’s posture at that knowledge. He sighs. “No, I know. Thanks for being with him all the time. I’m gonna walk Louis home, if that’s alright.” It’s clearly not a question.

Liam shakes his head and smiles, glad to be forgiven. “That’s fine. I’ll see you both later, yeah?” He claps them both on the back and quickly retreats.

Harry pulls Louis against his body and buries his nose in Louis’ hair, shuddering and inhaling several times in quick succession. Louis pats Harry’s side and rubs his hand up and down his ribs, counting them. “You alright?”

Harry draws away enough to look at him and smiles, only now visibly done with the situation. No longer are his eyes darting around, looking for potential threats, and his whole body drawn tight like a coil, ready to spring at a moment’s notice. He shakes his head. “Yeah, just- adrenaline, y’know?” Louis nods along like that is the truth. He could never personally understand the real reason while being so completely different from Harry. Alphas are just naturally so ready to switch into an aggressive predator.

Turning away, Louis reaches out and grabs Harry by the hand, dragging him along. Harry will always be there to protect him and Louis is there to do the exact same – there are simply different enemies.

They walk down the road, hand in hand, idly kicking at each others’ feet every once in a while. Their hands are loosely linked, fingers tangled, tacky with a light sweat.

“I love you, you know?” Louis says, tugging Harry a little closer, watching him trip, like he hasn’t gotten down this whole walking thing quite.

Harry beams at him, as if the sun has just come out and that’s the first time Louis has ever uttered those words. That’s why he says it, really. “I know.” His dimples deepen, as if he can smile anymore than he already is and Louis wants to dig his fingers into those ridges and kiss him until he can speak about as well as he walks.

Louis stops and pushes them onto the sidewalk – safety first – and does. He grabs Harry by the elbows and pulls him close before laying soft kisses over his lips, sometimes missing and getting his cheeks and chin and nose. Harry smiles widely and giggles intermittently but Louis has grown used to that and gotten less self-conscious. He knows Harry isn’t laughing at him but he’s just happy. So he laughs with him and holds him closer.

Eventually, Harry seems to realize that Louis isn’t fucking about and he starts to bring his A-game. He tilts Louis chin with his thumb and fore-finger, angling him in just the right way that he likes and kisses him a little more deeply, exchanging breaths easier than they exchange words. Louis nips at Harry’s bottom lip and jumps a little when he feels Harry grabbing him by the hips and tugging him closer.

Harry freezes and pulls away, his eyebrows drawn together with worry and shit- what just happened to the afterschool special? “You’re not angry, are you?”

“I…no?” He’s angry that he has been interrupted, that Harry could just turn off the passion like that but in general, with life, at God? No, not really. “No, I’m not.” He says with a little more assurance and leans in.

Harry pulls back again and just stares at him. He knows Louis has no idea what he’s talking about.

Louis sighs. “Am I angry about what, Harold?” He pulls away and crosses his arms, like he’s actually taking this seriously. As Harry chews on his bottom lip, Louis relents and grabs one of his hands with his own and squeezes it.

Harry nods as if the connection was the encouragement he needed. “That I did that thing to that guy?”

Louis snorts. “Douchebro #57?”

Harry’s face scrunches up in confusion and tilts his head and Louis can’t help but laugh at him. “Who?”

Louis sometimes forgets that not everyone hears his running and hilarious monologue on life. It should be a podcast or something, vital reading. “The guy by the lockers?”

Harry nods and does that thing with his teeth and lips because they don’t look cherry red enough and don’t stand out so much against his pale skin. Fuck Louis’ life. Emotions are happening and they are the biggest cockblock ever, ever, ever.

“I-“ He pauses and tries to think of an honest answer, rather than just saying something to assuage Harry’s worry. “I was irritated but no.” He leans closer and nuzzles against Harry’s shoulder because he doesn’t want to quite look him in the eye. “It scared me and I’m glad you were there.”

Harry stiffens at that and draws him in tightly in that special hug where Louis can feel each one of his muscles slowly tighten and flex around him and making Louis feel completely encompassed by his body and stuck there in the best possible way. Harry drags his nose slowly back and forth between Louis’ locks, inhaling deeply and unashamedly, because he can, sometimes nipping at the skin exposed. “I’ll always be here to protect you. Whether you need it or not.” Louis sighs and he’s pretty sure Harry knows he’s already forgiven—if there was much to forgive for in the beginning, but he likes to lay it on thick, the dramatic bastard. “Where would I be if you didn’t need me to protect you sometimes?” He snuffles into Louis’ ear and Louis squirms like he doesn’t love it.

“Weirdo,” Louis murmurs.

“Only for you,” Harry replies and Louis can feel the smile – the spread of his chapped lips against the shell of his ear and the sticky, sharp press of his front teeth. Louis turns and catches Harry’s mouth, laying one hand on his chest. 

Kissing Harry feels like nothing he had ever experienced, if only because of the invariably different experiences it could bring about. Some days, it feels like coming home – opening a door to all that is comfortable and known, being enveloped by warmth, love, and a velvety sense of belonging. Some days, it feels like drowning – salt burns at the corners of his eyes, he can never catch his breath and yet Louis will never fight the waves that run along his body and pulls close him close and down under, no matter how bad the pressure inside his chest gets. Some days, it feel like the last day of summer vacation – warm and sticky, filled with the pull and temptation of a thousand adventures, desperation tingling every moment because there will never be enough time in the world for this. Regardless of how it feels each time, he’ll never want it to stop.

A blaring horn makes them jump apart Harry glares at the passing red Jeep and swipes at his mouth. “Who the fuck was that?” He slurs, his voice still slow and groggy from making out with Louis. And-he fucking loves that. Without thinking or replying, he reaches out and catches Harry’s face, turning it back towards him and rubbing at his slick, jewel-red bottom lip with his thumb. Harry’s posture relaxes and he slowly drags his eyes back over Louis, over his face, like a lazy caress.

A slow smile starts to grow on Harry’s lips as he keeps letting his eyes roam around Louis’ face. The smile blooms like Louis is his personal sun, those smooth rose petal lips unfurling, revealing his sharp ivory thorns. Finally, it blossoms out, dimples taking root. Louis would do anything, every single day for the rest of his life to be the cause of this smile

The jeep actually did look familiar, Louis thinks. Maybe he does know who it was, but Harry keeps smiling at him and pulls Louis in by the hips and he can’t think much of anything after that

Harry walks Louis home – gentleman that he is – and leaves him with a kiss at the door, albeit a considerably more chaste one. Louis shuts the front door and leans against it for a second because his knees are a little weak and he may need to catch his breath and no one else needs to know that.

After having his moment, he skips past the living room, getting a chorus of distracted “hellos” from his sisters, and straight into the kitchen. He doesn’t realize that he’s humming until he’s face to face with his mother who’s – smirking?

Yes, smirking. It is confirmed.

“Unnecessary,” He sniffs and moves around her to forage, hoping for something decent.

“How was your day, boo bear?” She asks, carrying on with drying dishes. Why does it sound like she is gloating?

“Mom!” Lottie yells from the living room and Louis sighs, thankful for the interruption. “Can’t you tell that that is his ‘I love Harry’ face?”

Louis splutters, choking on air like he hasn’t been practicing for eighteen years now. Jay pats his back and calls back. “Yes, I know, dear. I gave birth to him. I know all of his faces, I was just trying to be nice and let him explain.”

“Nice, right,” Louis murmurs and gets one last slap on the back, harder than strictly necessary for choking prevention brutality.

Jay smiles at Louis, rubbing his back in slow circles. “How’s Harry?” She says it as if it’s a better phrasing of “how was your day?”

Louis grins. “Good.” Maybe it is.

His mother turns back to the dishes as Louis remembers the one interesting thing about today “Oh,” he says as he makes his way out of the kitchen. “I almost got beat up today”

All noise in the kitchen stops. “What.”

“It was awesome.”

Louis flicked on the light to his room and kicked the door shut. His mom must not have taken him that seriously if she’s not up here badgering him for more information. Tossing his bag onto the chair, Louis steps up to his bed and starts sliding his shoes off. He pauses, foot half out of his shoe, as his eyes fall onto an envelope on his pillow. The cream envelope is blank and rather innocuous. He picks it up and it smells- heady. Not bad but not attractive to the senses. Louis shrugs as he tears open the letter. Inside is a thick, red card with black embossed print.

_You’re so pretty when you cry._

Louis snorts and tosses the card aside. He drops down onto the bed and pulls out his mobile, dialing Harry. He taps his finger along his knee as it rings. This isn’t Harry’s usual thing and it’s a little creepy but he’ll play along

Harry picks up. “Go for Styles,” He answers like he doesn’t know who it is already and is incapable of answering the phone like a normal human being. Louis loves it.

“Sitting in my room,” he begins, forgoing a hello, “Thinking of you.” Louis slides down the bed and rolls over onto his side, making himself more comfortable.

Harry’s voice drops deeper. “Mm. Good,” He mumbles into the speaker and Louis can tell he’s distracted. That can change.

“Yeah, what you left here helped.” He palms at himself as he speaks. Louis knows Harry can hear the slight hitch in his voice and what it means. Weird as it was, Harry made an effort and that deserves something.

“Oh?” Harry sounds amused and more focused now. Better. “What did I leave there?”

Louis sits up and cradles the phone between his head and shoulder as he fishes around beside his bed. “The car- You don’t remember?”

Harry chuckles. “No. Did I leave pants there or something?” Now he’s doing it on purpose, letting his voice drop and rumble lowly and be all sexy-like.

Finally, he gets a hold of the card and stares at it.

_You’re so pretty when you cry._

“You did. And I’m going to wank in them and wear them tomorrow.” He babbles on autopiolot. Louis hangs up without much of a goodbye. Harry won’t mind.

The raised black letters hold his gaze.

_You’re so pretty when you cry._

It has to be a joke, some kind of prank. The card feels heavy in his hand and he drops it, like it could burn him.

_You’re so pretty when you cry._

But who would break into his house? – with his mum and sisters home, too. Who would go to all of that effort and risk, just for a joke?

_You’re so pretty when you cry._

 

~*~

 

Someone bumps into Louis in the lunch room, breaking him out of his thought and whispering into his ear. “So I hear you’ve got a stalker.”

“What?” Louis spits out and jerks around to see Hannah standing behind him, smiling.

“Relax. You’re too jumpy lately.” She pats his back and drops her tray next to his, cutting in front of him in line. “I mean, besides the whole homophobic lust thing, you’re fine.” Louis keeps staring at her, lost. She grabs something off of his plate and pops it into her mouth, rolling her eyes. “You’re clueless, Louis.”

“What are you on about?” He asks as she keeps going.

“Derek! Who else?” There’s some meaning in there that should let Louis know what she is talking about, he can tell by her tone of voice. She continues and gestures. “About this tall, dark hair, decent shoulders, mildly attractive, dress code: jock wannabe alpha douche.” That clicks for Louis.

“The guy that tried to kick my ass?” Louis asks, moving along in the line, actually interested in eating sometime today.

“Rude,” Hannah snaps as she is edged and shoved along. She flicks her hair over her shoulder, “But, yes, him.” Hannah pays for both of their meals as if she knows that Louis needs to be bribed to deal with this right now. He loves some good gossip, just not when it involves himself.

“And that means homo crush?” Louis asks after they’re far enough away from the crowd.

“Obviously,” she says around a fry.

“How so?” He asks, only a little genuinely curious.

“A boy pushes you down into the dirt when he likes you.” She starts hunting for a place to sit.

“Hang on. Isn’t that an anti-feminist rationalization process to excuse male aggression?”

Hannah pulls him down at the end of a crowded table. She puts a hand up. “Honey, irregardless.”

Louis wrinkles his nose at her. He hates when she quotes movies at him, expecting him to have a certain set of homo-approved pop culture memorized. “Stereotypes hurt, Hannah. I’m very masculine.”

“Whatever.” She lowers her voice. “He’s cute and all—” she holds her hand up to stop his interruption, “—and I know you have Harry. I’m sure he’s mostly harmless but be careful, okay?” Louis is trying to decide how to take her words, not quite settling between too dramatic or an understated concern.

“Be careful with what?” Louis feels a warm hand on the back of his neck and a warm body slide in next to him. Harry kisses his cheek as he settles in and Hannah shoots Louis a look, a question about what to say next.

“She’s doubting my masculine prowessand cautioning me against hurting myself while eating this manly cheeseburger.” Louis decides to ignore Derek for now. It’s easier. Hannah looks like she thinks he’s made the wrong decision and he decides to ignore the twist in his gut that agrees.

“Louis’ very masculine.” Harry’s brow is furrowed as he draws Louis in by the shoulders and rubs his chest with his right hand. “A right fit bloke.”

Harry’s a good boyfriend. He doesn’t regret digging around his room for twenty minutes trying to find an old pair of Harry’s pants to corroborate his lie and reward (tease) Harry. Louis nudges his head against Harry’s shoulder and nods downward once he’s got Harry’s attention. His thumb is hooked around the front of his trousers and he’s yanking them down enough so Harry can see his own pants, logo and all. After he withdraws his thumb, an audible snap sounds out. Louis meets Harry’s eyes, delighted to see them lit up. He looks across at Hannah as she shakes her head at them, most of the concern gone.

Harry nibbles at Louis’ shoulder sharply. Louis yelps and Hannah laughs and Harry chuckles and Louis grumbles and they laugh more.

Louis’ll be alright.

_You’re so pretty when you cry._

 

~*~

 

Louis is not going to be alright.

That night finds him sitting alone in his room, finally attempting to get around to his homework now that the light of day is gone and his fight or flight instincts are kicking in and stressing him out about the essays he has due. His backpack sits open between his legs and tucked into his European history book is another plain envelope.

Twenty minutes have passed by since he first discovered the letter and Louis can’t bring himself to open it yet. The realization is sinking in that this may be more than a joke and Louis just doesn’t know how to handle that. This is a faceless threat that there is no way to confront.

Louis draws his knees up to his chest and pulls the letter out, laying it flat on his bed so he can stare at it. That makes it somewhat less imposing but the message is still absolutely clear to him. Whoever this person is, they can get to him anywhere. They can get into his home and they can apparently gain access to his personal belongings during school. Anywhere he is, they can be there, too, watching and waiting.

Cutting off his spiraling thoughts, Louis picks up the letter and rips it open. Another red card with black lettering.

_I see you._

_Do you see me?_

_Soon, you will._

“No, no, I fucking don’t see you!” Louis throws the card away from him, disgusted. Disgusted with someone for doing this, disgusted with himself for playing into it and not knowing what to do.

What could he do, though? Go to the principal of the school? There’s nothing to prove and no one to point the finger at with any kind of certainty. All they could do was shrug their shoulders and tell him to report if anything more happens. The same with the police, if they would even take him seriously.

Louis kicks his bag off of his bed and rolls under the covers. All he can do is ignore it and not let it show that it is affected him at all and the person will go away. That’s what all bullies do. If their victim isn’t effected in any way, they find someone else to torture.

Louis isn’t sure why he crawled into bed – he doubts sleep will find him easily tonight.

 

~*~

 

“Can I come in now?” Liam’s voice filters through the door as Louis hurriedly checks everywhere he can think of. There isn’t anything in his backpack, nothing on his bed, nothing on his dresser or bookshelf or end table or under his bed or in his shoes – he just took those off.

Louis sits on his bed and sighs to himself. “Yeah, come on in.” Liam opens the door and steps in slowly as if he’s waiting to be kicked back out for some reason. He sits down next to Louis and pats his knees and rocks side to side slowly, apparently waiting for Louis to say something. Louis can’t be bothered, still scanning his room for any sign of another envelope. Liam had to come over today because Louis fell asleep in math and is going to need all the help he can get with the homework.

“Everything okay?” Liam finally asks, uncomfortable.

“Yeah, ‘course. Why wouldn’t it be?” Louis starts rifling through his backpack like he hadn’t just checked it over three times.

“Well, you had to do a security sweep of your room before I was allowed in.” Liam’s poor attempt at a joke falls flat and he clears his throat, trying to get Louis’ attention. “Is there anything that I should be worried about?”

Sex is always the default with Liam. “I fucked Harry here last night. Wanted to make sure the dildos and lube and cock rings and anal ticklers weren’t-“

“Alright, then!” Liam stands up and claps his hands. “Let’s get to some math, yeah?”

Louis laughs and pulls out his notebook – good old predictable Liam, clueless as ever. Before the math lesson can start, Louis has to ask. “Hey, Liam?”

“Hm?” Liam is sat at the desk and flipping through the textbook, great student that he is. He looks up at Louis, waiting for him to respond.

“Have you noticed anyone…” Louis trails off, unsure how to phrase it in the least worrying way possible to avoid suspicion.

“Can you be more specific?” Liam rolls closer and stares intently at Louis, like no matter what person Louis is concerned about noticing, Liam will listen and consider and do his best to help. Fucking Liam.

“Have you noticed anyone…like the guy the other day that tried to punch me?”

“Derek?” Liam supplies helpfully.

Why does everyone know this random asshole’s name? It’s a problem. “Yeah, Derek.”

“What do you mean, like him? Has anyone else been giving you problems?” Liam has moved back over to the bed and is leaning closer to Louis, apparently now over the disgusting thought of lingering sex residue. Concern will always win out with this boy.

“No, no,” Louis rushes on. “Just, anyone that doesn’t like me very much?” He takes a peek over at Liam to see that he is frowning thoughtfully.

“Not many people do, mate.” Liam says with a rueful expression.

Louis rolls his eyes, because, fuck people. “I am well aware. But I don’t get almost punched every day, do I? So have you noticed anyone like Derek? Or do you think Derek is over it?” Louis is talking to quickly, can’t stop himself. Even letting a little bit of his anxiety out in front of another person is so fucking relieving.

A warm hand squeezes Louis’ knee and Liam must be really worried if he’s resorting to physical gestures. “Are you scared about being attacked again?”

Too worried and no fucking help – that’s what Liam is. Louis sighs and starts to backpedal. “No, not really. Not with you and Harry around, I mean. I was just curious if there is anyone I should watch out for.”

“Well, not that I know of. Derek was stupid and felt like he had something to prove. He is a good kid, usually.” Liam ‘Seeing The Best In Everyone’ Payne, ladies and gentlemen. “But I will keep an eye out and let you know, okay?” Liam smiles like the problem is resolved and Louis has to hide his frown that clearly shows that it is not.

Now he has to focus on math and really, just fuck his life and fuck Liam for being so helpful and not at all, simultaneously.

 

~*~

 

The days wear on, busy days and sleepless nights, and Friday comes as a relief. Louis weaves in and out of the milling crowds with Liam doggedly following close by his side, making apology after apology when he has to follow Louis through a hole in the crowd that was barely big enough for Louis alone. Harry wisely stays right behind Louis, tucking himself right against his back, hand squeezing at his hip, to fit in the predetermined Louis-sized crowd holes.

“I’m really curious if I’ll get direct feedback on the paper. I put my name on it, of course,” Louis says loudly, unsure whether or not the other two boys can hear him.

They stop by Louis’ locker, forming a loose semi-circle. Liam looks around before staring at Louis with his eyebrow bullshit going on and Louis can already tell he won’t want to hear what Liam is going to say. “I’m not sure—”

“What’d you write about, babe?” Harry cuts Liam off, looping his arm around his shoulders in apology.

Louis beams and scuffs his shoe against Harry’s. “I wrote about how the Greek’s system of double standards mirrors our own.” He turns to his locker, bends down, and starts opening it.

“How so?” Harry supplies as Louis fiddles with the combination.

“Well, we’re all part of this system which is useful and great – it’s not about the system itself – but these predetermined categories do not necessitate any sort of hierarchy of social importance or privilege.” He’s stopped even attempting to open his locker, just enjoying the sound of his own voice.

“Plain English, please.” Harry nudges Louis out of the way so he can open the locker for him. He kneels down, slightly more dignified than Louis’ half bent over stance had been. A bit of bubblegum pink slips out from Harry’s lips, half caught between his teeth as he concentrates on the lock. Louis can tell from the drawn lines of his face that Harry is trying to recall the locker combination without having to ask for it. Each failed attempt brings about a small, polite frown on those dark lips. Harry looks up and catches Louis’ eyes, smiling as if he knows the reverie that Louis had been in. “You were saying?” Liam coughs like he usually does, as if he wants to remind them of his presence in case they ever just decide to fuck then and there but he doesn’t want to impose terribly.

“Right, I was saying that it’s bullshit that we’re all necessary but I’m somehow-“ Harry finally gets Louis’ locker open and looks up at Louis proudly, missing the plain cream envelope standing against his European history book. Louis stutters to a stop.

_You’re so pretty when you cry._

Harry takes in Louis’ expression and purses his lips. “Lou?” He glances back at the locker and Louis kicks the door shut before Harry can see anything. Moving forward with the momentum, he drags Harry up and switches places with him, as if he might still be able to tell what is waiting inside that locker. Harry lays a hand on Louis’ hip and asks again. “Lou?” There is so much concern packed into that single syllable that Louis can barely stand it.

“Let’s skip class,” Louis says in a rush, desperately trying to improvise.

Harry steps back and his eyebrows crease together. “I— Louis. Just because you are in your last year and have stopped caring, it doesn’t mean we can all just up and—”

“I wanna suck you off on the hood of my car,” Louis interrupts.

“Okay,” Liam interjects, drawing out the word. “Time for me to go.”

“Yeah, it was time about five minutes ago,” Louis says sharply and turns his head towards Liam. He’s gone too far and he knows it before he sees Liam’s hurt face – too earnest to even consider hiding his feelings. Louis sighs and shoves at Liam’s shoulder. “Go try to fuck Zayn or something, okay? Class is starting soon, anyway.”

“I don’t—”

“He’s looking right now,” Louis cuts him off and doesn’t pay attention to how long it takes him to leave. He’s busy looking at Harry and using his fingers to thread through Harry’s belt loops, pulling him closer “So? Was that a ‘Yes, Louis, you sucking me sounds lovely.’?”

Harry leans in, as he threads his fingers through Louis’ hair and tugs the locks lightly. “That’s a maybe.” His smile is dazzling and Louis can’t help but return it.

_You’re so pretty when you cry._

 

~*~

 

It’s clichéd as all hell but Louis loves a good lookout point and at one in the afternoon, it is completely empty. The trees break on an over-hanging ledge for about fifteen meters or so and give a great view over the western side of the city, even better when colored in broken shades of pink and orange at sunset.

Harry grabs Louis’ hand as they sit in the car, looking out over the city, as if they could take flight and sail over the houses and businesses to dance with the clouds and sun and be totally free. Louis loves feeling like he’s free. It’s so rare lately with the oppressive weight on his shoulders of knowledge. He isn’t free where ever he goes. But this is close enough.

Louis feels a squeeze on his hand and looks over at Harry whose face is surprisingly drawn tight for someone who is about to get a blowjob. “I’m ready when you are.” He has to snicker at the Harry’s subtlety. Harry finally looks over at him. “Whenever you want to talk, I’m ready.”

Louis pulls away his hand and grips the steering wheel like he can veer away from where ever this conversation is going. “About what?”

Harry blows out a thick breath and starts to bounce his left leg, drumming his fingers on his knee. “I don’t know. Whatever it is that is going on with you lately.” Louis has some sort of denial ready, he doesn’t know what it will be but he is ready to do that and has his mouth open and- no words come out. There’s nothing he can say. “You haven’t been sleeping or eating much lately. You’re jumpy to the point of point of nearly shitting yourself whenever anyone taps your shoulder. And I’ve never seen someone almost constantly be looking over their shoulder before. I just thought it was an expression.” Harry laughs lowly and it sounds like bones grinding – so empty and lifeless.

“I’m fine,” Louis manages once he knows his voice will be level.

Harry unbuckles his seat and turns towards Louis and kisses his cheek. “Just know I’m here and ready – whatever it is. Whether it is about me or Liam or school or your family or whatever. I’m here, always am.”

Louis bites his lip and almost lets words stream out of his mouth, unfiltered and messy. But he yanks off his seatbelt and turns towards Harry, a hand already on the car handle, pushing it open. “I believe I gave you my word about something.”

Harry scratches the back of his neck and looks sheepish, like he has something to be apologetic about. “I’m not really in the mood, Lou.” Dread flows up Louis’ spine. This is now affecting every part of his life. His friends are worried, his boyfriend is distant, and his life is running out of control in general. “I’m sorry,” Harry whispers.

He pulls the door closed again. “Fuck it, then. Let’s go back.”

 

~*~

 

It’s only after Louis escorts Harry to class – “to change it up a little,” he says - and pretends to go to his own that he loops back around to his locker. As he bends over, he sees that they left it unlocked and half open. He opens the locker and is shocked to see two envelopes now. Louis grabs both and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can see. He shuts his locker and makes sure to lock it this time.

The hallway is empty, he realizes, but he doesn’t want to take any risks. Ducking into a bathroom, Louis locks himself in a stall and yanks out both letters. The back one must have been placed first so Louis tears it open and pulls out another red card, embossed with black raised letters.

_Hide all you want, but I can see you for what you are._

_I will show the world what we are and can be._

Louis drops both letters and buries his head in his hands. These messages are walking a fine line between uncomfortably intimate and worryingly threatening. He should tell Liam, he should tell Harry, he should tell anybody at all. They would wonder why he didn’t say anything sooner and Harry would wonder why he would hide it from him.

More than any of those excuses, Louis wanted to be able to take care of this for himself. He wanted to have the chance to confront whoever it was. That made Louis pause – who could it be? Derek, possibly. But this seemed a little more effort than kicking his ass. Maybe Hannah was right. That would explain the confused but decidedly violent approach.

Louis leaned down and picked up the next envelope – the fourth message in total. Someone could have discovered he was on omega – some sort of concrete proof rather than the rumors that have followed him since ninth grade. How that proof would possibly be obtained, Louis had no idea. No one knew but his family, Liam, and Harry.

He tears open the letter and lets the envelope fall to the floor as he reads the last message, clearly the final intended message.

_You can’t walk away from the truth._

_Meet me in room 213 afterschool._

Clearly, Louis leaving behind the messages made whoever this was angry. It was nice to know he could get to him and that this stalker – that was the only word for it – wanted his attention that badly. It gave Louis a single point of power where he was mostly fumbling in the dark.

Before he could debate about whether he should call someone or let anyone know what he was intending to do, Louis walked out of the bathroom and towards room 213. He would wait outside first and watch to see who stayed behind in the class. They must have European as the last class of the day – why else would they choose that specific classroom, let alone somewhere at a school with potential witnesses?

Louis runs smack into a hard body walking the opposite way and staggers backwards.

“Watch where the fu- Liam!” Louis cuts himself off as he realizes that it’s Liam standing in front of him. “What are you doing?” The question comes out as an accusation almost.

“Well, I’m running errands for Mrs. C. I’m her TA during sixth period. What are you doing?” His tone holds no accusation but Louis wants to plead the fifth.

“Oh, you know, this and that. School stuff.” Louis waves vaguely, as if he can sweep away the concern etched into Liam’s eyebrows and pursed lips.

“Right.” Liam doesn’t seem sure at all of this but he gives in. Much more easily than usual but Louis doesn’t exactly have time to question it. “You know, if you need help with school stuff, you can always ask.”

Louis can’t stand the way Liam’s brown eyes bear into him with meaning. “Later, man,” He blurts out and starts walking away, leaving Liam staring after him. He’s got to get to that class before sixth period lets out or he’ll be going in blind.

The sight of a dark, empty room greets Louis as he turns the corner. Euro history doesn’t have a sixth period.

“Fuck,” Louis breathes out in a whisper. Too late to turn back, then. It is time for him to take control of his own problems and let no one – not Liam or Harry or even his teachers – fight his own battles.

_You’re so pretty when you cry._

_I see you._

_Do you see me?_

The memories shifted and changed.

_If you need help..._

_I’m here._

_Be careful._

Louis stopped and stepped into an alcove by a water fountain and pulled out his phone. It would be as easy as a text message or call. That’s all Louis would have to do.

 

~*~

 

He steels himself for whatever may come and swings the door open. Louis steps into the dark room, ready to fight whatever waits here for him. He will take care of this and be done with it. Louis is strong and Louis can take control. His hands are shaking as he turns round and round, waiting to see who it is- Derek or who ever thought they could fuck with him.

A figure walks in, outlined in dim light until they shut the door, immersing both of them in blind silence. Louis doesn’t dare move or speak.

“Hello, Louis.”

The lights come up and Louis sags in relief. “Mr. G. you scared me.” He blows out a breath and reaches up to feel his own heart.

Mr. Grimshaw smiles bemusedly. “Why is that?”

“I was waiting for someone.” Louis stands up straight and pushes the hair off his slightly damp forehead.

“And?” Mr. Grimshaw tilts his head, politely curious.

Louis walks towards the door “They didn’t show. So I guess it doesn’t matter.” Mr. Grimshaw still hasn’t moved from his place in front of the door. “Uh, I know you have teacher stuff to do so I’ll just get out of your hair.” His teacher smiles blandly at him and moves to the side, as if his mind is on other things. Louis reaches for the handle and –

“Mr. G-“

“They did show up, Louis.”

“The door is locked.”

Louis feels a cold chill run down his back. He doesn’t turn around. He knows he should but he can’t seem to move. “What?” He asks, as if there’s a chance he has misheard.

“You heard me.” Mr. Grimshaw starts moving around the room and Louis turns around on instinct rather than bravery, needing to see what he’s doing behind his back. Mr. Grimshaw is leaning against his desk casually, like he’s just lecturing on some off color topic that would make Liam frown. “I did come.” He growls. “I’m an omega, not a coward.” Louis flinches like the word is something obscene because it sort of is. “You’re one, too.” Mr. Grimshaw sticks out an accusing finger. “Don’t pretend you’re not. I can smell it.” He inhales sharply and steps away from his desk, towards Louis.

It’s starting to sink in how dire this situation could be and all of the possible outcomes begin flashing through Louis’ mind. “Okay, Mr. Grimshaw.” Louis tries to put out a hand, calming the air.

“Call me Nick.” He says softly.

Louis nods twice. “Okay, Nick.” His voice is shaky and he tries to clear his throat. “Nick, you need to unlock the door. Then we can talk.” Louis hedges towards assertive despite his voice breaking twice during the sentence and his stomach churning and twisting in on itself. That door needs to be unlocked.

Nick laughs. “We’ve talked for a long time, Louis. I’m done talking. Now is the time to act. Carpe diem.”

Louis hands curl into little helpless fists, clenching as he works up the courage to ask the obvious question that he doesn’t want to know the answer to. “What do you want to do?” His voice is soft but unyielding. He’s accepted where this is probably going but he’s going to face it with his head up.

“To be with you,” Nick says in a rush, moving towards him. “You’re so intelligent and quick-witted. It’s maddening.”

It may be the wrong thing but it’s automatic. “I’m with Harry.”

Nick averts his path and starts pacing around the room. “Yes, yes, the alpha sprouter. I am aware of who you have a surface-level juvenile relationship with. That doesn’t mean anything.”

Louis feels the urge to defend Harry and more so, his own desires. “That’s not true. Harry is special.”

Nick turns on Louis and throws his hands out. “He’s not special! Why can’t you see that?”

Louis feels stronger, just thinking about Harry gives him strength, as if he was here to support him. He might recommend that Louis not anger a man that he is locked in a room with, though. “He is. We are. We’ve been together for-“

“Three years, I know. That doesn’t mean anything. It’s just chemistry.” Nick’s face is turning a slight red as he drags a hand through his hair.

“We do have chemistry, yeah.”

“No. Fucking chemistry, Louis. Actual chemical reactions. We’re just evolved to pair into these certain patterns but there’s nothing else there.”  Nick advances on Louis and pushes him against the wall with a single hand on his chest.

“How can you know that?” Louis whispers, wavering in his courage, trying to focus on the beads of sweat running down Nick’s forehead rather than how trapped and afraid he feels.

“I was there,” Nick spits out, shoving Louis against the wall.

“You were where?” Louis shoves against Nick fruitlessly, trying to edge his way out. Nick grabs him by the shoulders and holds him against the wall.

“I was there when you met him. Do you even remember that it was this classroom?” He jerks his head to the left with a sneer. “Saw the whole thing right through that window.”

Louis is recalling that day, some moments so blurry but others stand out so clear and crisp, like Harry’s face the first time he ever laid eyes on him, all sharp, concerned green eyes and curls. “And,” Louis manages, “you saw how we fell for each other.”

“No, no, no.” Nick starts to shake him by the shoulders as his own head shakes wildly along. “I saw how you were falling for Liam Payne, darling of the school, so completely opposite of you… And then Harry walked in with his pheromones, pushing away your best friend as if he had a right to know what you wanted!”

“I—” Louis didn’t know what sentence he could form to deny what Nick had said. He had a point but that didn’t matter. Harry was trying to protect him, like he always does, and it wasn’t like he forced him into anything. They fell in love with each other.

“Think about it, Louis,” Nick says it softly, his breath ghosting across Louis’ cheeks. His eyes are wide and pleading, like he physically needs Louis to understand.

“If it was biology, what does that matter?” Louis isn’t sure if he agrees with that but he can’t exactly agree with Nick in case he gets the wrong idea about Louis consent right now.

“It means everything!” Nick shouts before looking down and taking a few deep breaths. Without looking up, he speaks. “I read your paper, Louis. It was disorganized and broke several of the rules I laid out in the project outline but it was good. It was really good.” He looks up and the swirl of bitterness and anger in his eyes resonates with Louis. He doesn’t know whether to pity Nick or cheer for his ideals. Not this, but what he wants for the world. “And it made me sure that you saw things the way that I did. That you wanted what I wanted from the world. That you wanted to change things.”

“I do,” Louis says in a hurry. “I want to change things so badly. But not like this.” He gestures between them. “Not by forcing anyone to do something they don’t want to.”

“It’s them that are forcing you to what they want.” Nick shouts again, his voice starting to break.

“No one is forcing me to do anything but you, Nick.” Louis holds his gaze. “Whether it was biology or pure chance or a mixture of both that led me to Harry, I don’t care. I am happy. No one should be forced to stay in something that makes them miserable but I am not going to sacrifice my happiness to prove that point.”

Nick lets go of Louis and leans against the wall, banging one fist against it. “Why don’t you understand? I was so sure that you would and that we could leave this place.”

“Nick,” Louis starts, feeling like he is starting to get the upper hand in the conversation. “I understand, but-“

The door opens and Harry comes flying through the door frame, stopping between Louis and Nick. He faces Nick and backs himself up until he is brushing up against Louis. “I’m glad you’re okay.” He murmurs it as his hands shake and he breathes heavily.

“Mr. Grimshaw. You need to step back. You’re going to let Louis go and you’re going to never bother him again.” Louis can make out a vein popping in Harry’s neck..

Nick laughs. “What are you going to do? Fight me for him? You’re fucking fifteen.”

“Sixteen,” Harry corrects evenly.

“You’re a fetus with hair,” Nick hisses. “What exactly do you plan on doing to stop me now that you have made your heroic entrance?” He folds his arms and the pity Louis had for the man dissolves as he sees nothing but malice etched into every line of his face

Harry folds his arms and matches Nick’s stance, standing as straight as he can. Louis steps between them. “Nothing,” He says, “The police will take care of everything.”

“You- you what?” Nick shouts, several octaves higher, betrayal burning in his eyes.

“I called the police as well as Harry. It is a crime to stalk and harass someone, especially a student, Mr. Grimshaw. I have nothing that I need to prove to you. I just need to get you to stop harassing me.” Louis looks back at Harry, making eye contact for the first time and Louis’ shoulder sag, somehow visibly relaxed just by seeing those green eyes bear into his own.

Before either of them can react, Nick runs. Louis sort of expects Harry to chase after him but he just turns around and cradles Louis’ face in his hands and kisses his nose. “Louis,” he whispers and Louis falls into his arms.

He presses his face into Harry’s neck and lets go of the tears he didn’t know he was holding. They’re slipping by silently but Harry must feel them because he grips Louis tighter and pulls him against his chest, burying his own face into Louis’ hair. “What were you thinking?” Harry murmurs against the crown of his head and Louis knows it isn’t an admonishment, just an honest question.

“I wanted to get a minute to talk to him – whoever it was.” Louis pulls away, locking fingers with Harry and walking through the doorway, knowing they have a long night ahead of them.

 

~*~

 

Louis sits on his bed and fiddles with his phone, knowing it won’t ding up with a message any time soon. He is grounded, if only to give his mother something to do to allow her to cope with the fact that her son was being stalked and he didn’t tell anyone immediately. He’s sure it’ll be over in a day or two once she stops believing he has a serial killer under his bed or something. But until then, he’s stuck.

Mr. Grimshaw hadn’t thought through his plans all that much and was caught at his house, furiously packing. Apparently, he had booked the two of them a plane trip and then cruise around the border of Mexico, planning to never make the return voyage. Louis does love the sun. At least Nick got that right.

Louis yawns. It took a while to explain everything to the police and give them everything he had that suggested the improper relationship that Nick had been trying to have with him. Louis checks his clock and sees that it is almost eleven but he still feels too keyed up to fall asleep, even knowing he has to get up in six hours to return to school like nothing went horribly wrong yesterday. He wonders if anyone at school knows.

He rolls off the bed and walks to the window to open it. It’s his school, of course everyone knows. As he opens his window, a pebble sails through the air and hits him in the throat. “What the mother-ever-loving-fuck!” Louis yells and instinctively chokes as his throat spasms. His hand flies up to cover it and he leans halfway out the window to see-

“Shit, Louis. You weren’t supposed to get in the way of my romantic gesture.” Harry is standing just under his window with a handful of pebbles.

“Good thing you went with one to start with. Wouldn’t want another first response-worthy event tonight.” Harry grimaces and Louis steps back away from the window because he’s feeling a little callous at the moment. Either Harry is finding his way up or he can try to get through his mother. Louis has other concerns at the moment. Like his precious, precious singing voice. Where will the production of Beauty and the Beast be without their Chip/Belle understudy?

Louis sits on the bed and watches Harry slide through the window like scaling a two story building is really nothing, too athletic for his own good, he is. Louis frowns and turns away from Harry, crossing his arms. He is nothing if not petty.

He can feel strong arms pulling him back in the direction of Harry and a large hand tilting his chin up and- Louis shuts his eyes and lets out a soft ‘oh.’ Smooth, cold lips massage his Adam’s apple – not quite where he was hit but who is he to stop a good thing?

Harry leans back and presses Louis down onto the bed, leaning over him. “Better?”

Louis nods and opens his eyes.

“How did you get into the classroom?” He asks softly. He’s grateful that Harry was able to do that since he hadn’t been able to unlock the door yet but extremely curious what sort of connections Harry could possibly have with the janitors or if he’s a secret lock picking thief at night.

Harry laughs lowly and scratches at Louis’ back with his blunt fingernails. “Babe, if that door locked properly from the outside, I would have never met you in the first place.”

Louis snorts and then starts laughing with Harry. “The school has been too cheap to repair that door in over three years? They should run an article about the low school budget.”

Harry murmurs some sort of assenting noise. Harry pulls Louis closer. “Mine.” He growls, a note of finality in his voice.

Louis lets a pregnant pause build up before replying, thinking about his answer. He turns and presses a small bite to Harry’s shoulder. He murmurs against the skin. “And mine.”

He can see it in Harry’s face before he says anything and Louis definitely isn’t ready for this but he can’t exactly stop it.

“Lou.” Harry shifts over and lies side by side with Louis, probably deciding eye contact would be difficult and Louis couldn’t agree more. He links their hands together and Louis squeezes. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I-” Louis stops and he feels tears fighting at the corners of his eyes and this is not okay. Harry squeezes his hand again. He can do this. “I thought I could handle it by myself.”

Harry brings Louis’ hand up to his face and brushes his lips over each of his knuckles. “You could have.” Louis laughs in surprise, hiccupping. Harry rolls over and stares at Louis. “No, I’m serious. You could have taken care of that all by yourself. You’re smart and resourceful and very, very persuasive. You probably could have gotten him to take you to Mexico and then just convinced him to let you pop on back for some sunscreen and had been done with it.”

Louis laughs and pushes Harry’s face away with his free hand, glad for the levity.

Harry pins down Louis’ other hand and leans even closer. “I know you could have taken care of it on your own. But you don’t have to. I’m here for you in any way. Because I’m yours to use and abuse.” Louis bites his lip and stares up at Harry, raising his eyebrows in question, prodding Harry on. “I would tell you if I was having trouble with anything, even if I didn’t think you could help at all. Because, first, you surprise me on a daily basis with what you can do, but also because I want you to know everything. And I want to know everything that has anything to do with you and your life.”

Louis sighs and doesn’t know what else to say. Harry clearly had time to prepare a speech that sounds so smart and well thought out and he just has all these feelings, mostly to do with kissing Harry and thanking him and punching him a little and just generally roughing him up some because he is his. When Louis reaches out to pull Harry down, Harry shakes his head and leans back. Louis shoots him a curious look, somehow unable to find his voice. Harry just leans forward and places both of Louis’ hands above his head, crossed. Then he grabs a pillow and places it over Louis’ hands, pressing it lightly and staring into his eyes, asking his own question back. Louis nods quickly and presses his hands down against the mattress. He doesn’t know where this is going but he doesn’t want to question it – just wants whatever Harry has decided to give him.

Harry smiles at him, so satisfied. He presses a small kiss to Louis’ lips before moving backwards off the bed and standing up. They stare at each other, immersed in silence and understanding and need.

“I love you,” Harry says, his voice so deep and gravelly and unacceptably appealing. Louis nods and that seems to make Harry just as happy as an answer. Harry lifts up Louis’ right leg and pulls off his shoe, rubbing his ankle before setting it down and doing the same to the other foot. As he leans forward and starts undoing Louis’ jeans, he breathes out a quiet ‘mine’. Louis presses his face into the side of his arm and moans softly, like he was already getting touched. Harry is slowly sliding the jeans down his thighs and pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses on each inch of exposed skin as it is revealed, from his thighs down to his toes. Each brush of lips sends a shiver up Louis’ spine and he has to fight the urge to wriggle his legs and writhe and move his hands so he can make Harry do something more.

When Harry leans over him and Louis just bites his lip harshly instead of teasing him or telling him to get on with it, he realizes he doesn’t know at what point they decided the rules to this physical game they’re playing but he loves it. Instead of speaking, he rolls his hips and groans, letting the frustration show. Harry hiccups a small laugh and smiles breathlessly, clearly just as taken with this as Louis is. He bends down and hooks his fingers under the waistband of Louis’ pants. There is only a small pause but it starts to feel indefinite, stretching into the paradox of time and distance. Before Harry can pull down Louis’ pants, he must first experience half the time it will take Harry to pull down his pants. But before that, he must wait half of that half. And so on and so forth, and with all of that, how can he ever actually get to the event itself.

Then his pants are off and Louis lets out a loud gasp, feeling himself spring out and slap against his stomach, making a wet thud. Harry yanks the pants all the way off and pushes Louis’ legs apart as he climbs between them. 

Louis feels a thrill, looking down between his bent, naked legs and seeing Harry kneeling there, fully clothed still. Intent fills his green eyes and it’s hard to maintain eye contact. Instead, Louis looks down and makes a barely audible whine. Harry shakes his head, curls flying and settles down, closer to Louis – closer to his cock, his brain helpfully supplies. Warm hands come up and grip his thighs, squeezing before pushing them up and apart. At first, Louis assumes Harry is just adjusting him before he starts touching him but Harry keeps pressing his thighs back farther. Steadfastly making full eye contact, Harry presses until Louis’ knees are against his chest, feet in the air, almost bent in half.

“Okay?” Harry breathes out, barely a question at all. All that is filtering through Louis’ brain is _yesyesyes_ and he manages to nod. That makes Harry smile and Louis returns it with a weak grin. Shuffling forward on his knees, Harry splays one large hand in the crook under Louis’ knees and holds them there. His right hand comes down and he pulls Louis’ cock out from between his legs with a crooked finger. With a last glance up, Harry ducks down sucks the head into his mouth, wet and loud. Each short bob brings a gasp from Louis. His hands writhe helplessly under the pillow, determined to stay in place. Louis’ hips rock and tremble, unable to keep still as he stutters out half moans and high pitched noises he isn’t sure how he can make.

Harry starts licking down his shaft and lapping with his tongue in flat broad strokes around his balls. As he leans forward, pressing more weight into Louis’ legs, he begins to kiss around the backs of Louis’ thighs, dotting every patch of skin possible with light pecks He starts murmuring softly, a gentle cadence that lulls Louis into this easy, sensual state of semi-arousal and pleasure. Louis can’t find it in himself to be bothered with why Harry is teasing him when it’s just so damn enjoyable.

The back of his head drops back onto the mattress as he finally realizes what Harry is saying. Craning his head forward, he meets Harry’s eyes as he presses another kiss and a sharp “mine” into his skin, filled with possessiveness.

Mr. Grimshaw may have had a point that people shouldn’t be forced into roles and unhappy but that wasn’t Louis. He was here of his own will and that didn’t make him weak or a pawn. It just made him happy. Harry was only possessive because Louis had given himself to Harry to be possessive over and vice versa. “Yours,” Louis breathes, breaking their game, not regretting it in the slightest. “Yours, Harry. And all mine.”

Harry’s eyes widen and then drop. “Always yours, Lou.” His voice is a dense, low register, making Louis’ stomach drop out in pure want. Harry lowers his head and Louis knows what he is going to do before it happens but—

“Oh, fuck, Harry!” Easy, confident strokes of Harry’s tongue slowly press across his hole. Suction alternates as Harry closes and opens his lips around him. Harry reaches up and starts stroking Louis with his big, warm hand, gently coaxing droplets of precome out of him. Harry takes away his hand that was pressing Louis’ legs back and Louis immediately circles one of his own arms around them to keep them up. Spreading his cheek back with his now-free hand, Harry starts to press inside Louis with small jabs and Louis can’t help the noises that start to dribble out of his mouth. Louis starts to lose grip on his thoughts, watching them slip by and disintegrate like sand.

“Jesus, Haz. Shit, shit, shit.” Words fall from his mouth without permission. The pace quickens as Louis starts that unintentional chant of Harry’s name. Harry presses in and grips him tighter, giving him rough, quick strokes as he fucks into him with his tongue. The two sensations building together is absolutely maddening and Louis keeps rolling his head back, letting his eyelids flutter as his vision goes in and out of focus.

Louis already feels right there and Harry feels the fluttering, too. He pulls off and mutters, voice fucked and slurred. “Come for me. Only me. Come on, Louis, I wanna see how much you need me.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Louis cries out, louder than he should because he does share this house with several other people – most of them utterly innocent to the wicked things Harry does to Louis on this bed on a regular basis. Harry lets go of Louis’ arse and presses his hand roughly over his mouth and Louis loses all control. A steady stream of moans flow out of his mouth, muffled by Harry’s hand, as he shakes and tightens around his boyfriend’s tongue. Louis can feel lips flutter against his hole and instinctively, he knows Harry is still trying to mutter “mineminemine.”

Louis falls over the edge, pressing Harry’s name into his own palm over and over again, tears streaming down his cheeks as he lets Harry break him apart into pieces and put him back together again.

Harry sits on his knees and holds Louis as he works through the aftershock. Only once his eyes come back into focus does Harry lean down and kisses his shoulder, breathing out a barely-there whisper. 

"You're so pretty when you cry."

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t want to color anyone’s experience so I saved this note for the end. This piece included a lot of firsts: my first a/b/o, my first rimming piece, my first “high school” fic, my first one direction fic, my first fic with an actual antagonist with some danger. As well as my first fic that heavily relies on British customs – if you see anything wrong (such as the school situation), let’s pretend you didn’t and that there are special weird schools for the a/b/o people, ok?  
> I want to clarify that I am not against a/b/o as a genre and the stance I took in the fic addressed some issues I thought would be very likely to happen in high school (because anything is a reason to be better than someone else in high school) and how I thought Louis would feel being an omega.  
> Finally a super big apology to my gift recipient for this being so late. As a slight consolation prize, I do plan on doing a prequel at some point that contains Harry and Louis just getting to know each other. The request specifically discussed three years later and I wanted to fill the prompt rather than writing an extra ten thousand words of absolute fluff and losing sight of the plot I had. But that will get written.


End file.
